


Dear-brother

by operationmycroft



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Implied Relationships, Jealousy, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV John Watson, Sibling Incest, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operationmycroft/pseuds/operationmycroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John comes back with milk to find something unusual going on in 221B.</p>
<p>Translated into Chinese by the wonderful amelie0205:<br/>https://www.tumblr.com/blog/amelie0205</p>
<p>Translated into Russian by the amazing Deanastia: <br/>https://ficbook.net/readfic/3971375/10324670</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear-brother

John had just opened the door to 221 Baker st, when he realized his shoe was untied. Closing the door behind him he knelt down, placing the carton of milk next to him. He had been sure he had gotten some only two days ago but somehow it had managed to be gone that morning. A low rumbling laugh brought his attention to the apartment above. Was that Sherlock’s laugh? It must be. Who could be with him? A flash of jealousy ran though John’s brain, he had only heard that laugh a few times in his stay at Baker st and had never heard it being shared with another. The other voice hushed him and said something which from downstairs, could not be heard. Leaving the milk where it was, he crept up the stairs feeling very much like a child going where it shouldn't.

As he made it to the door the voice spoke again, “Look at those two men, Sherlock.” That was Mycroft’s voice, John realized with a start. “What do you make of them?” Mycroft continued as John went up the last of the stairs to look into the door which was slightly ajar.

“The cheating salesman.” Sherlock said quickly. The two of them were standing the closest John had ever seen them. Mycroft was holding the certain open as they looked out. “Precisely, what do you make of the other?” Mycroft agreed.

“An old soldier, I perceive, and very recently discharged--”

“Served in India”

“And a noncommissioned officer”

“Artillery, I fancy.”

“And a Widower--”

“With a child!” Sherlock ended his voice rising.

“Children, brother-dear.”

Mycroft smiled and moved his arm to encircle Sherlock's waist. To John’s surprise, Sherlock turned in and placed his arms around his brothers neck in a hug. The certain fell closed. As they held on to each other a thought crossed John’s mind. They were all alone, in a world where everyone else was blind. Their hug changed before John’s eyes their legs moved between each others and Sherlock rested his forehead on Mycroft’s own. John backed away as quietly as possible and a blush rose on his cheeks. They were brothers no more and this moment was not for his eyes.

The murmuring resumed between them. “John, didn’t you leave the milk downstairs.” It was not a question. "You had better get it before Mrs. Hudson finds it.” Mycroft addressed to the room.

Sherlock smiled, “My, you're going to give him a heart attack.”

John breath caught in his throat and went down the stairs quite loudly and quickly. He grabbed the milk from its place by the door and on his way up he passed Mycroft, umbrella in hand.

“John.”

“Mycroft.”

After John put the milk away (next to a few fingers) he turned to face Sherlock, Sherlock who was still looking out the window, watching his brother leave with two fingers touching his lips.


End file.
